


Breathe

by HiddenDirector



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Season 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenDirector/pseuds/HiddenDirector
Summary: George and Lance were coping fine with the idea of their youngest son out there. They trusted he was ready for any of the dangers the Horde could throw at him on Etheria.How do fathers cope when they find out their child is traversing into the unknowns of space, though?
Relationships: George/Lance (She-Ra)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 5 IN THIS FANFIC, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!
> 
> I was glad to see Lance and George were okay during Season 5, but the half-episode they got wasn't nearly enough. So it got me thinking... how would my headcanon of War PTSD!George and Anxiety Disorder!Lance cope with finding out their son was going to space?

One of the most shocking calls Lance and George ever received was Bow explaining the situation after Glimmer disappeared. An even larger, more dangerous threat than the Horde they’d already been fighting had been unleashed upon the world. They were invading from space, unleashing their might upon the world as they tried to assimilate it into their own force.

The men had no doubt they were safe where they were, though. The Library was always a shelter - a sanctuary - for them and their family. Deep in the Whispering Woods, where nothing could reach them without meaning to find it. It was unnerving to know Bow was out there fighting this greater threat, but he could take care of himself. They learned to come to terms with and accept this fact, as hard as it was.

However, the next call they received was what shook them.

“Hey, so… I know this is sudden, and…” Bow said, looking nervous on the screen of their tracker pad. The image kept fazing in and out, occasionally going to static. It cut him off there, fizzing out for a moment.

“Wait a moment, Bow, this thing is…” George grunted, shaking his pad. “It’s not getting a good signal. Am I doing this wrong?”

“Shaking it isn’t going to help,” Lance said, walking behind his husband. He leaned over the back of the couch, putting his hand on the other side of it. He lifted it so it was pointing down at them. “Maybe if we move it higher…?”

“No, that’s not… it’s not going to help either,” Bow sighed on the other side. “It’s on my side, and I don’t know how long I have to say this, so I’m going to spit it out.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. George and Lance looked at each other, then back at the screen expectantly. When he finally let it out, Bow opened his eyes and said, “I’m in space right now.”

“...what?” Lance asked, laughing a bit. George could tell he thought it was a joke from his tone. At least, he hoped it was.

George did as well, though his reaction had no humor in it. “That’s not funny, Bow,” he finally said sternly. They were worried enough already about him.

“It’s… not a joke,” Bow said, letting go of his pad to rub the back of his neck, looking away from the screen. “We’re currently moving away from the planet, that’s why I needed…” the connection fizzled and went out a moment, then came back. “...don’t know when I can call again. We’re going to get Glimmer and…” another fade in the signal.

“Wait, wait, you’re cutting off!” George said, standing up. He started pacing with the tracker pad, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t be in space! We… I can’t…” he made a frustrated sound, unable to articulate how much panic, fear, and anger he was feeling at the moment. “Turn around and come back, we let you be in that Rebellion, we let you fight, but you can’t-!”

“I can’t… back now… Glimmer…” Bow’s signal was almost gone at this point, and he looked back at the screen. He put a hand on it, smiling. He was trying so hard to look brave. “I’m sorry. I’ll call… get back… love…” That was it. The screen went to static as the signal ceased.

George stared at the screen as the sound of static filled the Library.

Their youngest son was in space. He was launching off to… who knew where? Well, they knew. Kind of. They knew it was in the heart of Horde Prime’s forces. It was where Glimmer had to be.

It was easier letting Bow run off into danger once they came to terms with it when they were on Etheria. They knew Etheria, knew the dangers there. Knew he was prepared for whatever it could throw at him, could handle it.

Who knew what could happen in space, though? They knew they’d been trying to fix the spaceship that Mara left behind. Lance was super excited with every picture Bow sent them of the interior, the exterior, the mechanisms that ran it. They never thought they could actually  _ make _ it flyable again. It wasn’t that they didn’t want them to succeed. Of course they wanted Glimmer back, for them to go rescue her.

But could anyone be prepared for their son to call and say he was already in space? Already moving further away from them than they could ever have imagined? Maybe if they’d gotten some warning. But there was nothing. Just a call, ‘See you later.’

George grit his teeth, hand shaking as he gripped the tracker pad so hard his knuckles turned white. His frustration, confusion, and anger boiled until he finally let out a yell, turning and throwing the tracker pad at the wall. It crashed against the solid surface with a satisfying shattering sound. He stared at the broken machine, feeling at least a little bit better looking at the broken pieces.

What else could he do? What could Lance-

Oh. Lance.

George turned quickly towards the couch he’d been sitting on just a minute ago. It felt like hours since Bow cut out. Still standing behind it was his husband, staring into space. Unmoving, blank, almost like a statue. George could almost hear the gears in Lance’s head spinning at a million miles an hour. Knew exactly what he was thinking and that he had to put a stop to it at that moment before Lance was lost to his own thoughts.

“Lance,” George called gently, moving around the couch to stand next to his taller husband. He put his hands on Lance’s shoulders, turning him so they were face to face. Still no reaction. The former soldier reached up and put a hand on Lance’s stubbled cheek, tilting his face down so they were looking at each other. “Lance, whatever you’re thinking, stop. This isn’t your fault. Bow made his own decision, whether or not we like it. We can only support him. Right? We’re trying to be supportive.”

Lance stared blankly at George a moment before his eyes came back into focus. He blinked a couple of times before he broke into a shaky smile. The same one Bow had when he was trying to talk to them about this. “Yes. Supportive. That’s what we’re doing, we’re supporting him from here,” he said, voice trembling. “He’s going to be… Bow’s going…”

All at once, Lance’s legs gave out, collapsing into George’s arms. The former soldier grit his teeth again, feeling that frustration bubbling up once more. Not at Lance, never at him. He couldn’t help it, his mind couldn’t process this kind of information without betraying him. He let out a wailing sob, glasses skittering to the ground as he buried his face in his husband’s shoulder. His entire body wracked with the force of the sobs he unleashed, unable to stop himself.

George knew they weren’t moving anywhere for a while. It’d been a very, very long time since the last time Lance was hit this hard. Not since their children were very young and first living with them. It happened a lot back then, when he thought he’d completely fail at being a parent. He’d isolate himself from his children so they wouldn’t see him breakdown. Blaming himself for every little thing that went wrong, unable to cope with the idea that with kids sometimes things just  _ happened _ . He’d gotten better, though. Even when they found out that Bow had been hiding who he was from them, sure he’d blamed himself but he hadn’t shut down.

The former soldier eased himself down so he was sitting on the floor, holding Lance carefully so he could sit with him. George made sure to move the glasses that had fallen out of the way so they wouldn’t break them, holding his husband tight and running his fingers through dreadlocked hair. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing he  _ could _ say, that was something he learned long ago. When Lance got like this, all he could do was be there to hold onto and give him support.

Lance cried for what felt like ages. George did his best to not move, to simply hold him, to kiss his forehead, give him the occasional assurance he wasn’t alone. Finally, the researcher began to calm, breath occasionally hitching but no longer threatening to choke him. His tremors settled into shivers, but he didn’t let go of his husband. He held on tighter in fact. It was some time before he even attempted to speak.

“He’s going to be okay, right?”

George smiled even though Lance wasn’t looking at him. “Of course he is,” he affirmed. He didn’t add that he was only hoping he was right. He had to be the positive one when Lance got like this. That had been hard the first few times, as Lance was usually the pillar of positivity in their family. Always excited, always smiling.

“Right…” Lance said tiredly, resting his head on George’s shoulder. “We should do something for him when he gets back. Should I bake cookies? Would he like that?” He was starting to sound tired. That happened a lot when it came to his breakdowns.

“I think he’d love it. But for now, I think it’s time to go upstairs and get some sleep,” George replied, reaching for Lance’s glasses and handing them to the researcher.

Lance took the glasses and slipped them on, nodding. He wasn’t usually this sluggish, but he was worn out. George didn’t blame him. He just hoped he didn’t overthink the situation they just found out Bow was in as they went to bed. If he did, the nightmares would be inevitable.

They’d face that if they got to it. For now, George had to think of ways they could support Bow from where they were. Preferably ones that would keep Lance distracted while he was gone.

‘Please hurry back,’ George thought, looking out the window at the night sky as he helped Lance to his feet. ‘For both your sake and ours.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's best just to talk.

It had been a week since the transmission from Bow. Lance tried to be his usual chipper self, but he found it difficult. Honestly, he was mostly just grateful that after that first shutdown he managed to keep himself together. ‘How do you always stay so positive?’ George always asked him. He was usually teasing, but it was affectionate. He loved that about George. Everything always came down to affection. Shows of love in even the smallest possible ways.

Honestly, it was hard to always be positive. Maybe not for some people, but Lance had to work hard at it. If he didn’t, his anxiety would overwhelm him. This was his way of coping. It was a lot easier to ignore the bad thoughts when all you concentrated on were the good ones. But…

But it was even harder than usual lately. With Bow out there somewhere in the vast unknown of space, Lance couldn’t stop worrying. Was Bow okay? Was the ship okay? If something happened to that then he couldn’t come home, right? Did he have enough food? Was there enough oxygen? He didn’t even dare consider what would happen when they reached the Horde’s fleets. What those monsters were capable of if Bow fell into their clutches.

“Lance, you shouldn’t be out here when it’s this cold.”

The researcher turned around from his seat on the steps leading down the Library’s front. His husband came out with two cups of coffee. Despite his words, though, George didn’t try to encourage him to come back inside again. Instead, he sat down next to Lance and handed him one of the cups.

Lance took it gratefully and took a sip. Usually, if he drank coffee this late it meant he was staying up working. Lately, though, he stayed up at looked up at the stars. So many stars, so many moons. He wondered where among them Bow was at that moment. “You know what I keep wondering?” he finally asked, holding onto the warm mug. It was nice against the cold.

“What, my love?” George asked.

“When did we stop knowing him so well? When did he start hiding that he had so much courage to launch himself into space?”

George didn’t answer for a moment. He took a few deep gulps of coffee and sighed. “I don’t think we ever stopped knowing him. We just… blinded ourselves to the things we didn’t want to consider. We sheltered them so much, all of them. We never even considered the idea that any of them would want to be a fighter.” He turned his dark eyes on Lance and put a hand on his shoulder. “What brought this about? You haven’t said anything like this since we found out about him and the Rebellion.”

“Just…” Lance looked back to George and smiled a bit sadly. “I don’t know, I guess I’m trying to figure out how he’s thinking. I thought I knew for his entire life, I convinced myself of it. But then a few months ago he comes home and we find out he’s a completely different person. He loves all kinds of things I never even considered. How did I never notice?”

“Hey,” George said softly, smiling in return and tucking a dreadlock behind his husband’s ear. “None of that. Aren’t you the one who told me not to think of it as us having failed? He’s a fine, courageous, loyal young man. And he couldn’t be any of those things without us having done something right.”

Lance’s sad smile melted to a more genuine one as George spoke. “When did you become so smart?” he teased.

“You wouldn’t have married me if I wasn’t,” George chuckled, pulling Lance down by his chin and kissing him softly. “Couldn’t imagine you tying the knot with anyone who couldn’t keep up with that big brain of yours.”

Lance laughed as George poked his temple, pulling away. He did so fast enough to slosh his coffee, laughing again as it spilled over and onto the ground. Luckily it’d gone between his knees and spared the trouble of a stain. It felt good to laugh again. George was very good at helping him with that. Keep grounded, keep perspective. “I didn’t marry you for your mind, though it is very sharp,” he mused.

“I knew it, you only love me for my body,” George sighed dramatically.

“You caught me, you stud,” Lance stifled his next chuckle as he took another drink.

It was George’s turn to burst out laughing. “Now there’s a word I never thought I’d hear come from your mouth!” he admitted.

Lance joined him once again, leaning over and kissing George this time. It was much deeper, more passionate. He wanted to make sure George felt how honest he was through it. “It’s true, though, isn’t it? That’s what people call someone who is as handsome as you?” he asked in a low voice.

George stared at him and Lance could see something flare in his eyes that he was proud of himself that he could cause after all these years. The former soldier finally made a growling sound, putting his cup down quickly and grabbing Lance by the shoulders. He moved quickly, pushing a yelping Lance onto his back on the landing. Unfortunately, as he hadn’t given any warning, Lance’s coffee was still in hand. And now it was on the wall and door of the Library. Lance looked at it as George climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. “I’m not cleaning that up, I hope you know,” he said in amusement.

“Don’t care right now,” George grunted, leaning down and kissing along Lance’s jaw. He traced the researcher’s neck with his lips, causing Lance to sigh.

As he let his husband lavish him with attention, Lance looked at the stars again. He knew that was probably unfair, but he knew it also wouldn’t go any further than this while they were laying on the porch. George was a surprisingly intimate person when it came to this kind of affection was all. When he felt the need to kiss his husband all over, there was little stopping him. Certainly not Lance, it made him feel relaxed to know he was so loved.

Sure enough, after a few minutes of this, George nudged his nose under Lance’s jaw and nuzzled in. “You’re quiet,” he observed. “Usually you’d talk even through that.”

“I’m still wondering what we can do for him,” Lance admitted, threading his fingers through George’s hair. Neither got up to move, perfectly comfortable where they were despite the hardwood beneath Lance’s back. “There has to be something, I don’t like feeling useless.”

“I know the feeling,” George sighed. He stroked the other side of Lance’s neck with a thumb. “Everything we know, everything we’ve researched… you’d think something useful would be in there.”

“We know nothing of the Horde. Not this version of it, anyway,” Lance said, closing his eyes. He’d never even seen the original Horde. Had never wandered far enough away from his Library in his life to experience it. He knew George did - far more than he ever wished to. But what use was that when they found out that Hordak’s Horde was just a cheap imitation of a much larger threat?

“Maybe if we could get the Rebellion to send us some of the technology they’ve confiscated from them,” George suggested.

“And what? We’re historians, not mechanics. We don’t know anything about technology. You haven’t even been able to fix the tracker pad,” Lance pointed out. He wasn’t trying to sound rude. He probably didn’t have a rude bone in his body. Still, it was frustrating.

Losing the tracker pad had been a blow itself. Without it, they couldn’t check in on  _ any _ of their children. With Horde Prime spreading across the planet, they couldn’t make sure their other kids were okay. Surely if something had happened they’d come home, though, right? This was the safest place their family knew.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” George assured Lance, pushing himself up. He leaned over Lance, and the researcher had to take a moment to admire him. Not that he didn’t do that every day since they met. But it was still amazing to think that he was real.

Sometimes Lance felt like he’d wake up one morning and the last decade and a half would turn out to be a dream. He’d still be all alone in his big, empty Library, with his books and artifacts and… no one else. It was something he feared sometimes. When his anxiety searched for  _ something _ to worry about, it started considering the idea that none of this was real. It was all just an elaborate fantasy made up by a lonely young man who longed for company.

But George  _ was _ real. Somehow Lance was just that lucky. He had a handsome, strong, patient husband, and thirteen wonderful and smart children. How he ever deserved any of it, he really never could figure out. He was nothing special, just another researcher in the vast world of knowledge. Sure, he was one of the few who specialized in the First Ones, but that didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t even help them at the moment.

“I see those wheels turning again,” George teased, poking Lance on the forehead. “Stop.”

“I’ll do my best,” Lance joked sardonically. After a moment he said genuinely, “Thank you, George.”

“For what?” the former soldier asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For being you. Being here. Being patient,” Lance listed, reaching up and putting a hand on George’s cheek. He traced that handsome mustache he loved so much with a thumb. George sometimes asked if he should shave it off for a change. Lance assured him if he ever did then he wouldn’t be allowed into their bed until it grew back. He was only half-joking.

“You’re welcome, though I should rather thank you instead,” George smiled in return, leaning down and kissing his husband on the lips one more time. “Now come on, bedtime,” he added, rolling off the researcher.

Lance groaned. “You just gave me coffee and expect me to sleep?” he complained, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Now, whoever said anything about sleeping?” George grinned.

Lance stared at him a moment, then laughed, hurrying into the house. “Well, I suppose I  _ should  _ finish what I started, shouldn’t I?” he joked.

“You better,” George growled playfully as he followed quickly. Lance heard him shut the door, and knew their cups were left abandoned outside. Messes could be cleaned later, though.

Right now, George had the best possible distraction planned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new hobby can be good for the soul.

“I want to learn to use a bow.”

George stopped reading the journal in front of him to turn and stare at his husband. “You… what?” he asked incredulously. He had to have heard that wrong.

“I want to learn how to use a bow,” Lance repeated, looking quite serious. “You know, archery. Like our Bow does.”

George couldn’t stop staring at him. Lance, who hated anything to do with actual violence. Lance, who had never picked up a single weapon in his life outside of artifacts. Lance, who wouldn’t even touch George’s old sword from when he was a soldier.  _ That  _ Lance wanted to learn to use a bow and arrow? “Why?” he finally managed to ask. Even that one word felt like it was exploding with a thousand more questions behind it.

“I was outside earlier and I saw one of those flying robots,” Lance replied. He was fidgeting with his hands while he spoke, a sign that he wasn’t completely telling the truth. Not lying, no. Lance didn’t lie. Not that he was incapable of it, simply that he was incapable of doing it  _ effectively _ . Rather he was more prone to hiding the whole truth, though even that he had easy tells for. “It wasn’t  _ too _ close, but if it  _ does _ reach us I’d rather be prepared.”

Okay, that did concern George. They’d stayed this safe because they felt the Horde would never find the Library. But if they were sweeping the Whispering Woods well enough that they were even coming close, that was dangerous. Still, he didn’t think that giving Lance a weapon was a good idea. Lance had to know that. There was definitely more to this than he was saying. Finally, he asked, “And why else?” It was best to be direct with Lance when confronting him.

Lance fidgeted a bit, looking at his hands. “And…” he hesitated, finally clasping his hands together. His face turned from worry to melancholy and George knew something was definitely wrong.

“Lance,” the former soldier encouraged, standing up. He walked over, taking the researcher’s hands in his own. He suspected what this was about, but he wanted Lance to say it himself. “Please, just tell me. I won’t judge you, you know that.”

There were a few moments where an answer didn’t seem to be coming. Lance pursed his lips before sighing. “I… George, I miss Bow,” he said quietly. “I miss him and I’m worried and I can’t stop thinking about him. What if something happens on his mission? What if he never comes home?” His voice choked at the end and George’s heart ached.

“Of course he’s coming back,” George assured him, placing a hand behind Lance’s neck and pulling him down so their foreheads rested together. He smiled. “I told you before he is, and I don’t lie to you. You know that.”

“I know,” Lance said lightly, closing his eyes. “I just… I feel like if I learned how to use a bow like him then I’ll feel closer to him. It’ll feel more like he’s still here.”

George watched him, the anguish on his face, and felt his heart melt. His beautiful Lance… he never should feel this way. Should never look so hurt. Finally, he sighed. “If it’s so important to you, then sure, you can learn to shoot.” He hated saying it, but he hated how that sad look on Lance’s face made him feel even more.

Immediately, Lance’s eyes flew open, staring at his husband. “You really mean it?” he asked as if he never thought George would agree.

“Of course I do,” George smiled. “Anything for you, Lance.”

Lance stared at him a moment longer then smiled as well. “Thank you,” he whispered. He then pulled away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over in his eyes. He never was particularly good at containing his emotions. “Bow has an extra… well, bow and quiver that he left here. I’m sure he won’t mind us using it.” He then looked to George excitedly. There was the man George married. “So, when will you teach me?”

“Me?” George asked in surprise. “What makes you think I know how to shoot a bow and arrow?”

“Didn’t you learn in the army?” Lance asked in confusion.

George laughed. “I was a swordsman, not an archer,” he corrected. “There’s a far cry between the two.” Ranged weapons had never been his forte. He didn’t have the patience for that, honestly.

“Oh… well, I was hoping you’d teach me,” Lance admitted sheepishly.

“Well…” George thought on it, rubbing the back of his neck a moment. “Bow taught himself how to shoot without an instructor. It can’t be  _ that _ difficult, can it? I’m sure we have some military books around here somewhere that can give us the basics. Let’s just give it a whirl.”

\------

The answer was apparently that it  _ could  _ be that difficult. In fact, it was very hard. There were dozens of rules on how to properly even hold a bow before the book covered how to shoot it. Still, stubbornness was a family trait and they were determined to move forward now that they’d started.

The good news was that this was an excellent distraction from what was currently going on between Bow and the world at large around them. They spent hours pouring over the books, studying the techniques, memorizing the stances. For days on end, they went outside and George used his knowledge leftover from his days in the military to put together a training course on this. He wouldn’t use the bow and arrow himself, he swore he’d never touch another weapon again. But he watched over Lance as he learned, helped correct his stances to look like they did in the books, instructed him on the safety precautions listed there.

And little by little, Lance  _ did _ start to look better as they did this. Perhaps it was the distraction, the focus on a singular task. Or maybe as he gradually became better, as small of steps towards it as they went, he was starting to gain more confidence in it.

As he watched Lance line up a shot against the target they placed on a tree behind the Library, George thought on that. It was easy to feel confident with a weapon in your hand. He remembered the feeling when he was in the army. He hadn’t known how to use one when he joined, but weapon training was a mandatory part. Everyone trained in the basics and then determined what they were best at before proceeding. George was a swordsman, through and through. He liked that it carried both simplicity yet discipline behind learning it. George liked discipline, he liked order. He still liked waking up in the morning and following a schedule.

Lance was the opposite. He didn’t schedule anything, simply let life take him where it wished. George admired that about him, yet it still worried him. Life never took him beyond the borders of the Library, leaving Lance extremely intelligent yet equally naive. He knew what the world held but George wasn’t sure he understood it. It was part of the reason he couldn’t handle when things went wrong and he didn’t know what to do. No one ever taught him those kinds of things. Even though George never knew them, he always was angry at Lance’s parents for assuming Lance would always have everything he needed in the Library and encouraging a life that never saw the outside.

George tried to break that habit in Lance. Tried to convince him to come out of the safety of his walls. The most he’d managed was convincing him to come with him to some First Ones ruins that they were continually excavating, and only when there were no other workers there. Lance, for as lonely as he was, was unnerved by the idea of actual people.

Maybe the archery  _ was _ good for Lance. Sure, he wasn’t very good at it yet. That was evidenced as he shot and the arrow not only missed the target but missed the tree. George laughed a bit at Lance’s embarrassment and stepped forward to help him realign his aim. Teaching someone a skill you didn’t know yourself was a slow process. However, if it brought Lance out of his shell, perhaps it was worth it.

But overconfidence… that was still something George was wary of. As excellent as he was with his sword, no amount of confined, planned training had prepared him for actual combat with it. That was where his confidence had fallen to pieces.

He still saw it sometimes when he closed his eyes. The sight of those others who had signed up for the First Princess Rebellion running into battle alongside him for the first time. The plan had been solid, but there was one major problem. The Horde, it turned out, didn’t much care what your plans were. They had no problem tearing through your forces with their advanced technology and weapons as if they were made of paper. George remembered the horror he felt as a young soldier, watching the men and women in his squadron fall around him. Attacking a Horde soldier, confident that his training  _ had _ to have been enough, and then…

“George?”

Lance’s voice brought George back to the present. The former soldier blinked, looking at his husband. “What?” he asked dumbly. The look Lance was giving him said that he’d likely called his name several times by then.

The scar on George’s chest tingled. That happened when he remembered that battle. It reminded him of his hubris caused by being proficient at wielding a sharpened piece of metal. What a fool he’d been. What a fool he was for keeping at it for so long. What did it earn him? A body covered in battle scars and the loss of his entire village, all for a war they lost.

“Are you alright?” Lance asked, putting the bow with the quiver on his back. “You zoned out.” His eyes softened and George immediately felt calmer. It was amazing how Lance could do that for him, just by caring. “Were you remembering again?”

“It wasn’t as bad as it could be,” George shrugged, smiling wryly. It was true, that was only a minor flashback. There were times he could get lost in the memories of battles and soldiers lost. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

“There’s no such thing as a flashback that’s ‘fine,’” Lance said sternly, taking George’s hands in his own. It was amazing that he could be comforting even while scolding. George was sure that was a talent only he held. “If this is making you remember things you don’t want to, then we can stop. It’s fine. You’re more important than my silly needs.”

“It’s not silly,” George insisted, squeezing the hands in his. “If this is something that makes you feel better, then you…” He looked to the target on the tree for the first time since he zoned out. The arrow was sticking out of one of the outer rings on it. Not a perfect shot, but he was definitely getting better. George forgot what he was saying as a genuine smile spread across his face. “Look at that,” he said lightly.

“I mean, it wasn’t exactly a bullseye,” Lance said sheepishly, looking as well. “I have a long way to go to catch up with Bow.”

“Then we’ll keep working at it,” George insisted. He squeezed one more time and let go of Lance’s hands. He walked over to the target and pulled the arrow out. “We’re going to make a master archer out of you yet.”

Lance’s face reddened, but he looked delighted. “You’re sure?” he still asked uncertainly.

“One hundred percent,” George nodded, bringing the arrow back. He held onto it as Lance pulled out another one, nodding in return. “Come on, let’s give Bow something to be proud of when he comes back.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George returns home from resupplying empty-handed and with bad news.

Two weeks since Bow called them, and Lance found himself alone in the Library. George was getting supplies in the closest village. Due to the changing nature of the Whispering Woods, it wasn’t always the same village, but those who lived inside could navigate it fine. However, they’d tried to stay safe and sound inside as long as they could, and that meant not resupplying until it was desperately needed. They were running low on food by now and if George didn’t leave now then there was no telling when their next chance would be. They hadn’t seen one of those flying drones in days. That had to be a sign that it was the safest they’d be.

Lance occupied himself to not worry. Being alone in the Library - his family home - wasn’t usually a problem for him, and even during the reign of Hordak’s Horde, he knew George would be okay. But this was different. This was new. They didn’t know what would happen with this. So the best thing to do was not think about it, and he did his best not-worrying when he was researching.

The subject he chose had come to him as he considered everything that had happened up to this point. Bow had a fight with Glimmer before she was captured. Something about the ‘Heart of Etheria.’ He knew that name from somewhere, knew he read it somewhere. But where was it?

Lance was scouring book after book. He found occasional references in the books studying magic on Etheria, but nothing that went too deep into it. It felt more like they were trying their hardest to  _ not _ say it. He put every book he found with a reference even close to it, even in passing, to the side. He was determined to help  _ somehow _ , even if this was his full capacity as an expert in First Ones research.

Lance was so absorbed in what he was doing that he actually jumped when the front door opened. He was on the second floor of the Library, thus had to go to the banister to see his husband. “George, I didn’t expect you so soon! Unless I lost track of…”

Lance trailed off when he saw George. Even from there, he could tell something was wrong. His heart clenched and he ran down the stairs as George collapsed to one knee, panting. He was holding an arm, part of his sleeve burned off, and the skin underneath an angry red. “George!” Lance cried out, finally reaching him and falling to his knees next to his husband. He immediately moved George’s hand so he could see the full damage. That was definitely a laser burn. “What happened?” he asked, though he was afraid of the answer.

“We didn’t realize how bad it’s gotten,” George said breathlessly, taking a couple of gulps of air. “The villagers… most of them have been brainwashed. It was crawling with those… those creatures that invaded us. One of the villagers sold me out, told them we were hiding out here.”

“Oh no,” Lance whispered, eyes going wide. He looked out the open door, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement.

George waved a hand, shaking his head. “I lost them in the Woods. Etheria willing, they won’t even find their way out. We’ll be fine.”

Lance pursed his lips and nodded, taking George’s arm gingerly and brushed his fingers across the burn. He’d read about these kinds of injuries, heard about them from the few times George talked about his time in the Rebellion. But… actually seeing it, especially on someone he loved… He immediately stopped when George hissed in pain. “I… don’t know how to treat this,” he admitted.

“We got them all the time back during the Rebellion, come on, I’ll show you,” George said, standing up. He had to be careful not to use his left arm for leverage when he did it.

“George…” Lance said worriedly, standing as well. He looked his husband over for any more signs of injury.

As if reading his mind, George forced a smile. “Don’t worry, it’s the only one I have. I’ll be fine,” he assured the researcher.

Lance looked unsure still, but he nodded again. He was trying not to think of what that meant. If that village was taken over by Horde Prime, then what about the other ones surrounding them? Was there  _ anywhere _ else safe? What about the Princesses, what were they doing at this moment? They had to be out there protecting everyone, right?

George led them into their master bedroom, sitting on the bed and closing his eyes. He took a couple of breaths that made it obvious this hurt a lot more than he was letting on. Finally, he pointed to the washroom. “Cold water, a washrag, ointment, bandages,” he said.

Lance nodded, hurrying into the washroom to gather what he was told. He poured the cold water into a bowl and came back with it all on a tray, being careful not to go too fast or he’d risk spilling the water. George had removed his shirt and was looking at the burn in disgust. “Alright, what do I do?” Lance asked, setting the tray on the bed and biting his lower lip.

“Use the washrag in the cold water to clean the burn,” George said. “Don’t rub it, though, or it’s just going to irritate it and possibly make it worst. Just dab it.”

Lance nodded again, falling silent as he did as he was instructed. It only took a few minutes, though it felt like hours. He didn’t know what to say, honestly. Questions could wait until he was finished. Mostly he was concerned for what that experience had done for George’s mental state. His flashbacks had been getting better over time, but it was never okay no matter what the retired soldier insisted. Being shot at like that, it had to have brought back painful memories.

Lance tied off the bandage as he finished, then put a hand on it. His husband had gotten hurt out there, just trying to get groceries. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t ignore this. The world was changing too quickly, becoming dangerous too quickly. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on George’s bare shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. “What are we going to do?” he finally whispered.

George’s arm shifted and Lance felt his hand rest on his head, brushing through the dreadlocks there soothingly. “We’ll be alright,” he assured. “Everything will be alright.”

“ _ How?! _ ” Lance finally snapped. He wasn’t angry, he was scared and distressed. He lifted his head, feeling tears well into his eyes as he looked his husband in his. “We don’t know where any of our children are; if they’re alive or brainwashed! We’re stuck in this house running low on supplies and you just proved that it’s not safe to go looking for more! Those things get closer every day, and if they find us then what are we going to do? I’m barely proficient in shooting straight and we can only hold them off so long!” He felt his breathing pick up, heart pounding out of his chest. This was a terrible time for a panic attack to start setting in.

George watched him as Lance spilled his worries out, reaching up and taking Lance’s face into his hands as he always did when he reassured him. The feeling of the warmth of his hands comforted Lance if only a little. “Hey, I know,” he said soothingly. “Things are bad, but there’s no need to give in. Remember, we can get through anything together. We just need to make a plan.”

Lance nodded, trying to push down the sick feeling in his stomach. George was the voice of reason, he knew what he was talking about. He needed to concentrate on his voice and words and not listen to the one in the back of his mind that kept saying that there was no point and they should just accept that they were going to get captured and brainwashed. He swallowed, putting his hands on George’s. It made it feel more real, like they were holding him down to this planet. “Okay. Yes, you’re right,” he managed taking a deep breath. “We need a plan. What do you have in mind?” George always had a plan.

“I was thinking… you know those ruins we found?” George said, thinking it over. “The entrance is pretty well hidden, and we already know the way there. And… well…” He trailed off, hesitating.

Lance knew what he was going to say, though. “And it’s the only place I’m not afraid to go.” He wasn’t proud of the fact that the outside world terrified him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to leave sometimes, especially since meeting George and having him come and go. But it only took a few steps beyond the boundaries of the Library’s property and the memories of seeing his parents leave, promising to return but never being seen again…

It had been over twenty years. He should have been fine. But his brain didn’t seem to want to heal from the trauma of realizing his parents would never come home. He’d been so young, no one could blame him.

George had actually performed a miracle by helping him build up the courage to leave just to go to Glimmer’s coronation ceremony. It had to have been like pulling teeth to George. They’d made sure to leave extra early so they could stop and calm him whenever Lance had a panic attack thinking of everything that could happen to them walking out in the open in the middle of the Whispering Woods. Sure, it was amazing seeing Brightmoon in person. A beautiful place with gorgeous and fascinating architecture. But by the time they got back home, Lance had buried himself in their bed and refused to come out for days until he felt all of the shock of what he’d done fade.

The ruins George was bringing up were not terribly far from the Library (not usually, anyway, the Whispering Woods could decide to change that on a whim). As long as he was with his husband, Lance had gotten pretty brave to risk making that trip alone. But they  _ were _ First Ones ruins and he was absolutely fascinated by everything he found there. George and those they’d hired to help them with it assured him that there was absolutely nothing dangerous inside.

“Hey, it’s okay,” George assured Lance, getting his attention back. “We’re going at your pace, remember? One step at a time. But it’s good that we have this as a backup. You’re already comfortable with it.” He tucked a dreadlock behind Lance’s ear and smiled crookedly. “There, a plan. Easy, right? I’ll spend a few days moving some supplies there in case we have to retreat there and stay for a bit. Everything will be fine.”

Lance finally took another breath, smiling in return. That really did make him feel better. “Yes, a plan. A good one. Thank you, George.”

“Of course,” his husband gave Lance a kiss, then stood up. “Well, let’s see what we can do about our remaining supplies. I’m sure things will be alright.” He held out the hand of his good arm.

Lance nodded, taking the hand. “Yeah, let’s get things organized. You’re right.”


End file.
